


A Deal with the Devil

by Joel7th



Series: The Dark Lord’s Pet [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, self-indulging fanfic, spoilers for season 3 of Castlevania, spoilers for season 3 of Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, these tags come with Lenore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joel7th/pseuds/Joel7th
Summary: “You still have a lot to learn, my dear daughter,” Lucifer said. “Burning is the last option when you brand a human’s soul as yours, and frankly I find it quite a waste. Let it be today’s lesson for you as a ruler of Hell.”Lucifer taught Sabrina a lesson in striking bargains with mortals.(A Castlevania/Chilling Adventures of Sabrina crossover)
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar/Hector (Castlevania), The Dark Lord | Satan (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Hector (Castlevania)
Series: The Dark Lord’s Pet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755202
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	A Deal with the Devil

Sabrina exhaled a lengthy sigh of relief to be out of her unholy regalia and into her casual clothes. Really, she swore Lilith had been secretly harboring a grudge and tried to murder her when the demoness tied her corset. The wig had been extra-heavy and the collar extra-tight, and it had taken all Sabrina’s strength to last through her coronation without embarrassing herself — and Dear Old Daddy — in front of the entire Pandemonium. She sure hoped she wouldn’t have to wear the full costume, complete with makeup, while dealing with everyday business in Hell. If she did, either she would lose it or she would rebel.

“If you are bothered by the costume, rest assured.” Sabrina heard Lucifer’s voice behind her and turned around to see her dad. It was still awkward as hell (pun intended) to refer to the Dark Lord as her dad, although she believed she was getting used to it by the day. “As Queen, you can wear whatever you want and no wretched soul would be foolish enough to comment on your choice of attire.”

“That’s reassuring... Dad.”

Lucifer tutted. “Now now, what did I say about how you would address me in front of the court?”

“Sorry... my King.”

“You can call me ‘Dad’ in private, which is where we are heading. Come, I have something to show you, or rather... someone.”

Her curiosity piqued, Sabrina stepped forward to stand next to her dad. A ring of fire engulfed them and a second later, Sabrina was greeted with the sight of a lavish chamber. No, ‘lavish’ wasn’t the appropriate adjective for it. She silently gasped at the sheer opulence this chamber unabashedly boasted. It was nothing she’d seen before and so awed was she that she was in the firm belief her vocabulary was never enough to do it justice. Gold was its main color, which spoke clearly of its owner. Sabrina turned to Lucifer with a flabbergasted look.

“This is my private chamber and you will have a similar one,” Lucifer said, walking leisurely to the four-poster bed, which seemed to be the only object of a different color than gold, in the center of the vast space. “If you want any specific detail or decoration, tell your handmaidens and they will take care of it.”

“I have handmaidens?” Sabrina asked, mildly distracted by the intricate carvings along the walls. They appeared to be telling a story. Biblical perhaps?

“Every Queen has handmaidens. You can have as many as you want. You can handpick them if you wish.”

Sabrina shrugged, hoping whoever her handmaidens were, they would not try to murder her with corsets and wigs like Lilith had.

As they approached the gargantuan bed, Sabrina couldn’t help rolling her eyes. The bed wasn’t empty, nor was it made. Half-buried under the crimson velvet sheet, with his shoulders and smooth back exposed to any eyes, was a man who couldn’t be much older than Sabrina herself, if his looks were to be trusted. The newly crowned Queen of Hell felt heat blooming on her cheeks as she realized the young man, seemingly in deep slumber, was likely naked and the crumpled sheet coming up to his slender waist was the sole preservation of his modesty. She was extremely grateful for the fabric and the angle in which he was lying so that nothing below his waist was visible; otherwise she wasn’t sure how to properly react to a naked, beautiful young man on her father’s bed. Yes, he was beautiful, that much she could tell by studying his face; not good-looking or handsome like the boys she had acquainted, but beautiful in a mystical way. She guessed it was because of his hair like silver-spun making a stark contrast with his olive skin; such combination wasn’t common amongst humans as far as she could tell, provided he was one. He did _look_ like one, though.

Lucifer saw the blush dusting her cheeks and smirked. The Dark Lord threaded his fingers in silver locks, messaging the young man’s scalp with a tenderness Sabrina was surprised her father was capable of. The young man stirred and slowly blinked open his eyes, once again having Sabrina bewitched by their stunning color of turquoise. “D-Dark Lord?” he stuttered and immediately sat up. The sheet pooled around his waist, and Sabrina’s eyes were treated to a full view of his chest. However, the blush quickly receded from her face when her gaze landed on the scars peppering his torso. Some of them were short while others long and jagged, but they all disturbingly resembled claw marks. Distaste filled her guts at the thought that her father might have been their author. Meanwhile the young man’s expressive eyes also found her and the confusion in them mirrored her own.

“Hector, I would like you to meet my daughter, Sabrina Morningstar, Queen of Hell,” Lucifer said.

Hector stared at her for a second before bowing his head as deeply as his posture allowed. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” he said. “If I had known you were coming, I would have prepared and better presented myself. I beg for your forgiveness.”

“Erm... it’s alright,” Sabrina replied, baffled by the unfamiliar title — another item in the long list of what she would have to get accustomed to. “I didn’t know I would be coming here either.” She threw an accusing look at her father and received a smirk in return. “Please, just Sabrina is fine. You’re Hector, right?”

“I wouldn’t dare, Your Grace.”

“Do as she insists, Hector. She is not at all used to formalities. She would appreciate it if you address her by her name; it gives her some semblance of her mortal life, am I right, Daughter?”

Hector’s eyes flickered between Lucifer and Sabrina. Sabrina nodded and held out her hand. He blinked at it before taking it with hesitation. His palm was warm and callused, indicating he had held a tool before. She wondered what his profession had been before he ended up in her father’s bed. Oh hell, back, back, she barked at herself. She didn’t want to chase that thought right now.

“Now that Sabrina has settled in Hell, I hope you two will maintain an amicable atmosphere, perhaps even befriending each other.”

“I will try my best, Dark Lord,” Hector said with another bow. “I hope Her Gra—Sabrina doesn’t find me a terrible bore.”

Sabrina honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. Fortunately she didn’t have to because Lucifer was busy running his hand through Hector’s hair again. She found it mildly disturbing, for it looked like her father was petting the young man. “My daughter and I have some business to discuss. You can go back to sleep and continue your dream, Child. I will come back to you later.”

Sabrina raised her brows at Lucifer’s pet name but neither he nor Hector paid her any attention. “Yes, Dark Lord,” Hector answered demurely and after one last glance at Sabrina, he lied back down and closed his eyes. In a matter of seconds, he appeared to be in deep slumber, same as when they entered the chamber.

Weird. Was he that exhausted? Again, she shouldn’t be surprised because it was her dad.

She really needed to steer away from that line of thinking.

“That was awkward,” Sabrina said once they were out of the chamber. “Never have I thought I would meet your... paramour.” Sabrina made a face. “Is that who he is?”

“You have already met — and may I add — plotted with Lilith.”

“Not when she was on your bed and practically naked.”

Her words coerced a small chuckle out of Lucifer.

“Does Lilith know him? Where was he when you were—”

“Imprisoned by my daughter in the flesh Acheron?” Lucifer cut her, unmaliciously. “No, Lilith has not met him. Hector has never been keen on making acquaintances since he arrived at Hell, quite content with his self-confinement in my bedchamber, and I have not felt the need to make him. He had been sleeping through my temporary dethronement.”

“Sleeping? He only woke up just now?”

“Hector likes to wander through dreams, like a young, adventurous boy. It is unnecessary to deny him that small luxury.”

“That sounds... lonely,” Sabrina commented. “Why did you bring me to see him? It’s not because you want us to be buddies or something, right, because that’d be a whole new level of awkwardness.”

“Sabrina, now that you are ruling Hell beside me, there are matters you have to learn, such as the art of striking bargains.”

“Somehow that sounds quite ominous to me.”

“As Queen of Hell, you are able to give out favors to individuals. In return, you demand something from them that is due to be collected at the time of their death. That ‘something’ is, as you can already guess, is their soul.”

Sabrina wrinkled her nose. “You mean, like Jimmy Platt’s case? Urg, why would I want someone’s soul just so it can burn in Hell?”

Lucifer smiled and stroked her hair, which prompted her to duck but thankfully she was able to act against her instinct. It seemed an innocent enough gesture between father and daughter and it would be unreasonable to deny him, especially when she had already made peace with her parentage. “You still have a lot to learn, my dear daughter,” Lucifer said. “Burning is the last option when you brand a human’s soul as yours, and frankly I find it quite a waste. Let it be today’s lesson for you as a ruler of Hell.”

Fire circled around the pair of father and daughter. When it died out, Sabrina found that they were in a room. Her eyes scanned the surroundings and she came to a conclusion that although it in no way held a candle to Lucifer’s bedchamber, it was quite luxurious in its own right, with intricately carved furniture made of dark wood and a couple items for decoration. There was a gilded vanity in a corner, piled up with various colorful vials and several brushes. Two things stood out in her mind: one, it was a bedroom and two, it wasn’t modern, at least not in her era.

A wanton moan entered her hearing and captured her attention, prompting Sabrina to turn her head to its source. She soon came to sorely regret her action because the scene had her drop her jaws on the carpeted floor.

“Unholy hell, Dad,” Sabrina exclaimed, not bothering to watch her volume; Lucifer would take care of that. “I’m sixteen and you brought me here to watch people having sex!”

Having sex, that was exactly what the two people on the bed were doing, and she wasn’t too innocent to even feign ignorance. That didn’t mean she wanted to play a peeping tom; her dad, though, had another idea in mind.

“You are sixteen and also the Queen of Hell,” Lucifer calmly reminded her, his gaze on the figures on the bed and his expression bordering on boredom. “Surely a little coital display is not too much for you.”

“Doesn’t mean I need to be privy to people’s private lives.”

“You do. It provides context for our lesson today.”

Sabrina shot him a dirty look. She wanted to get the hell out of here, she really did; still, at the same time, her curiosity was piqued. This was the first time she’d had some sort of father-daughter bonding with the Dark Lord — quality time, as they said — and Lucifer seemed to be earnest in passing on whatever infernal knowledge he possessed to her. She’d be damned if she said she wasn’t the least interested.

With a resigned sigh, Sabrina returned to her front seat of this adult-oriented show. She was mildly grateful for the position of the two individuals in the throes of passion: while the man was naked, the woman on top of him was almost fully clothed, and her flowing gown covered the more R-rated aspect of their coupling. She was perturbed, however, by the cuffs tying the man’s hands to the bed posts and the leather cord held firmly in the woman’s petit hand. It was winding around the man’s throat in a way that didn’t seem comfortable, or safe for that matter.

Then Sabrina caught sight of familiar-looking silver hair and she dared came closer for a better look. Her mouth opened in a gape.

 _Hector._ The young man she had only met some minutes ago. She turned to her dad with bewilderment written all over her face, and Lucifer just wordlessly motioned her to continue watching.

“You feel so good,” the redhead above Hector threw her head back and moaned, her cheeks flushed. “You are so good. You’re such a good puppy.” As if to punctuate her sentence, she tightened the leather cord, causing Hector to choke. Sabrina took in a deep breath when she realized his expression was not that of rapture but of pain. His hands balled into fists, his knuckles bone-white.

“Then what does that makes you, Lenore, you who are fucking a dog?” Hector rasped.

It was not his coarse language but rather his acid tone that startled her. Bitterness. Helplessness. Hatred. For both the woman and himself. Sabrina could see those in vivid colors in the haze above them, probably a new power her status allowed her. She wanted to avert her eyes.

She heard a slap, followed by Lenore’s voice. “Talking back is not cute. How many times have I told you? But you never learn, do you? What a terrible, terrible puppy.”

When Sabrina looked at his face, she found three bleeding scratches across his left cheek. The scars littering his torso began to make a lot more sense.

She closed her eyes and wished this perverse show soon came to an end.

...

When Sabrina opened her eyes, Hector had been untied from the bed posts. He had not dressed and the sheet was pooling around his waist. There were angry scratches on his collarbones and shoulders as well as blooming bruises and chafes around his wrists. His hand was rubbing idle circles on the skin of his throat, where the impression of the leather cord was still much visible.

Lenore had been immaculately dressed. Tossing her hair over her shoulders, she leaned over and kissed his marred cheek, then proceeded to run her tongue over the scratches. “Can’t have this pretty face scarred, can we?” she chirped, looking content like a cat with her cream.

Hector wiped his cheek — completely healed and smooth — with a hand and made no response. Unoffended by his silence, Lenore pecked his lips and fingered the chafed wounds on his wrists, almost caring in her action had she not been their cause in the first place. “You wouldn’t have these if you hadn’t struggled so much,” she cooed in his ear. “I prefer you somewhat feisty, though. Spices things up a bit.” She nibbled his lobe with the pointy ends of her teeth, smiling sweetly at his immediate full-body shiver. “Pets with a bite are more fun while the toothless are just a bore.”

Hector regarded her coolly, his mouth pressed in a straight line. “Oh come on,” Lenore said. “Being sulky doesn’t become you. What would you want for dinner? They have fresh venison today in the kitchen, and I’ll make sure you’ll have some nice juicy steak. Medium-rare?”

When it was clear she wouldn’t coerce any words out of his lips, Lenore just patted his cheek and turned on her heels. “Be sure to get some sleep, Hector. You look a little wilted.” With that she exited the scene.

Left alone, Hector stayed absolutely still. His head hang low, his face hidden by his curtain of hair. His fingers curled around the sheet.

“Is he alright?” Sabrina said with a frown. A sudden, inexplicable urge to wrap her arms around his frame overwhelmed her.

“Just watch.”

Sabrina humphed and shifted on her feet, impatience tugging at her insides while Hector remained in that statue-esque state for what seemed like forever. When he finally moved, his movement was sluggish and clumsy as though he had lost his balance and the floor was spinning under his soles. The sheet slid from his body and Sabrina turned her gaze sideway, watching him stepping to the wardrobe from the corner of her eye. To her utter dismay, it wasn’t clothes he took out but a gleaming blade after a few seconds rummaging the bottom of the wardrobe. Her breath got caught in her throat, and her mind rushed to the worst possible scenario that Hector was going to end his life right in front of her eyes. That was how he had ended up in Hell, wasn’t it? Fortunately it wasn’t the case as he only plopped down on the floor, the blade secured in his left hand. In one swift motion he ran his right palm across the edge of the blade. His face expressionless, Hector squeezed the blood from his fresh cut and began to draw on the surface. Sabrina’s breath hitched as familiar sigils manifested and the angel witch was coming to realize just what Hector was doing.

“He’s summoning something,” Sabrina said. Lucifer raised a fine eyebrow, challenging her to be more specific in her conclusion. “No, it’s not ‘something’. He’s summoning you!”

“Top marks, Daughter.”

“How did he learn the ritual?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Some ancient tomes, probably. Some occultists selling magic tricks for coins in darkened corners. In the end, the ritual matters not because it is the heart’s desire that calls out to me, not some mortal conventions.”

Sure enough, the blood sigils started glowing, illuminating Hector’s eerily calm face with a red hue. His chest heaving, he traced the tendrils of smoke slithering like vipers on the floor. There were three knocks on the opposite wall and once the last knock ended, the wall warped and soundlessly split open. Hooves made heavy sounds on marble.

“Not a very charming visage, Dad,” Sabrina commented on Lucifer’s horned form.

“The boy was not the least intimidated by my form, and from that moment I started to find him intriguing.”

Sabrina snorted, recalling where being ‘intriguing’ had gotten Hector.

Indeed, he lifted his head and fixed Satan the same cool stare he had given the redhead Lenore. “So the Devil does exist,” Hector said, flat-toned. “Nice to know I didn’t shed my blood to summon a genie.”

“Sadly I have but one wish to grant, and it does not come free.”

Hector glanced at his lacerated palm before replying, “The price is my soul, I wager?”

Satan nodded. “Indeed. Once I give you what you desire, you are branded as mine. I will collect you at the time of your death.”

“Fair enough.”

“What do you desire, Child?”

“Liberty,” he replied at once, holding up his left hand, “from this slave ring.”

His words drew Sabrina’s attention to the band of red and black threads on his ring finger. She could sense traces of magic emitting from it. “Hector was a slave?” she asked incredulously.

Lucifer gestured to the space around them. “A prized pet,” he said. “A sad little bird in a gilded cage.”

Sabrina recalled the redhead woman, and everything started to click.

“You would trade your soul’s eternal freedom for one in this transient existence?” Satan asked.

“Not for freedom,” Hector said. “For vengeance.”

Sabrina felt her heartbeats speed up at Hector’s curt words. No, it wasn’t his words that affected her; it was the intensity underlying them that ran a chill along her spine. She could practically see his hatred condensed in a cloud hovering above his head.

“Very well, Child, you shall have it.”

Satan took Hector’s hand into his and for a moment, the gesture looked like a loose handshake. “This shall hurt,” the Dark Lord warned, milliseconds before his claws impaled Hector’s hand. The young man let out a sharp cry as his entire arm and shoulder convulsed. Sabrina watched intently. It looked like his skin was simultaneously punctured with hundreds little holes, from which blood spurted out and ran in rivulets down the length of his arm to be absorbed into Satan’s hand where it came into contact with Hector’s. The Dark Lord’s eyes became two orbs of fire and mist escaped his parted mouth. Hector’s face twisted and a blood-curling howl tore its way out of his throat.

Then, silence.

Hector’s body sagged and his hand slipped from Satan’s grip to land on the cold marble surface in a thud. His breaths coming in quick, heavy pants, he all but curled up in the fetal position, clutching his left hand to his chest. Tracks of tear gleamed faintly on his tanned face.

“Pain counters pain,” Satan said above him. “This is the only way.”

Sabrina looked at Lucifer and somehow doubt filled her.

Hector took the ring off and dropped it on the floor. “Thank you,” he muttered, putting his shaky hands down in order to lift himself up into a sitting posture. It took him a few tries to succeed. His back leaned against the foot of the bed and he breathed a sigh. “Thank you,” he repeated, clearer this time.

“No need to thank me, Child, though I appreciate the sentiment. Still, since you were willing to pay the ultimate price, I wonder why you did not ask for something more than just nullifying that ring. Unmeasurable powers, perhaps?”

Hector’s lips curved upward in a weary smile as he lifted his right hand. Out of nowhere blue flame flared up in his palm and quickly spread, making a torch out of his hand and at the same time, sending tingles along Sabrina’s witchy nerves. A small crease found its way in between her brows with the unexpected revelation: Hector, fragile-looking and tormented Hector, turned out to be user of a particular dark art, one with a distinct infernal flavor.

He closed his fist and the flame extinguished, leaving his skin perfectly unscathed. “It is my power they want, and those vampires have ruined me for it,” he said. “It is what I’m going to use to destroy them. I even have the perfect strengthener for it.”

Satan hooked a claw under his chin and lifted his face so that Hector had to look straight into his hellish pupils. Hector’s own pupils dilated, the muscles in his neck strained and his Adam’s apple bobbed as though he was swallowing his nerves. “Very well, Child. I shall watch over you until we meet again.”

The room and its furniture blurred and their surroundings started to shift.

“I didn’t notice he was a warlock,” Sabrina said. “He...” _felt human_ was what she was going to say. It also felt wrong somehow.

“Did you?” Lucifer asked. “To say he was a warlock is not entirely true, so it is understandable that you could not sense magic from him until he used it.”

“What was he then?”

“Hector belonged to a rare species of dark art practitioners called ‘Devil Forgemasters’. They are by and large extinct now.”

“Does he still have that power or did you take it from him?”

Lucifer feigned a hurt look, which didn’t suit him at all and so he dropped it. “Why would you think I took away his magic?”

Sabrina shrugged. “Seems like something you would do. That means he still has it?”

“He has not touched it for a long time; it seems superfluous to call upon Hell creatures when he is already in Hell.”

“He can do that?”

“You will see.”

Lucifer led her through a door.

It was on fire, the scene they just entered. Through the raging fire, Sabrina could make out the vague outline of an oval room. It was quite large but sparsely furnished, and the only furniture that stood out was a huge round table in the center, surrounded by a few tall-backed chairs. On one of the chairs was the redhead Lenore, although she wasn’t immaculately groomed as she had been when Sabrina last saw her. Her hair was wild and it appeared a few locks had been crudely torn from her scalp, resulting in bloody trails on her face, once angelic but now distorted in horror and agony as she was pinned to the chair by clawed hands on her slender shoulders. Her hands were splayed on the table and each finger was nailed to the oaken surface like a grotesque specimen in a display case. Despite her earlier impression of Lenore, Sabrina’s stomach churned at the redhead’s gruesome state.

“Please,” she begged, tear stains further smudging her makeup. “Please, it doesn’t have to be like this, Hector. We don’t have to be like this. Let me out and I can fix you and we’ll leave this place behind. We can start anew, don’t you want that?”

“Actually, I don’t want to start anew, Lenore,”

Hector replied from the opposite chair. There was a light tremor in his voice, like he was struggling to form verbal words. “I want everything to end here. You, me, them,” with a hand drenched in blood, he made vague gestures to the floor, “all go up in the pretty flame.”

Sabrina briefly scanned the floor and frowned at the three humanoid scorched marks.

“You’re insane, Hector,” Lenore hissed, baring her fangs and attempting to break free. Her skin sizzled where she was nailed. Hector weakly snapped his fingers and the clawed hands tightened their hold.

“The vampire does have a point.”

Sabrina heard a raspy voice and turned around to see her father. No, not her father who had brought her here and was now watching the scene with his hands behind his back, but the Dark Lord in his Baphomet form.

“So you’ve come to collect me,” Hector said with a smile. He raised both his hands, blood-soaked and shaking. “Right on time. I am ready.”

“Who are you talking to, Hector?”

He turned to her with a finger on his lips. “Be quiet, Lenore. The real people are talking.” One of the clawed hands moved to Lenore’s throat and crushed her windpipe.

Satan’s claw poked the wound on Hector’s abdomen, eliciting a hiss from him. “Your term can be extended, Child, if you are willing to sacrifice an innocent soul.” He leered at Lenore. “She will not do, but any innocent soul you send my way will earn you an additional seven years, which technically allows you to live to the ripe old age.”

“Really, Dad? You’re tempting him to commit murders to live on?” Sabrina said.

“It is called fair trade, Daughter. He needs to be informed of all the terms and conditions, as well as the fine print. You will do so when you are dealing with an individual of interest.”

Sabrina’s expression hardened. Although she considered herself to be pro-life, if Hector agreed to her father’s condition, any slivers of compassion and respect she’d had for him would completely evaporate.

Hector laughed and then grimaced as his laughter seemed to burst open his wound. Blood seeped from the corners of his lips, darkening the gray fabric of his shirt. “There’s hardly any innocent soul anymore,” he rasped.

“Only because you have not looked.”

Hector shook his head. “Take me, Satan. I’m tired of this pain.”

“Very well.”

Hector turned back for one last look at Lenore, whose eyes had rolled to the back of her head, before closing his eyes.

Satan’s arm reached for him and lifted his soul from his battered body. He looked so small, so vulnerable in the Dark Lord’s arms, like a slumbering babe in his parent’s embrace. Fire swirled around them in a whirlwind as the same time real fire began to lick the table.

The scene morphed into familiar landscape. Hell sweet Hell, Sabrina thought.

“Where shall I burn?” Hector asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands once Satan allowed him to stand on his own. He kicked idly at the fire pebble near his boots.

“Who said anything about burning?”

Hector’s head perked slightly at the voice. “Drown? Drawn and quartered? Eaten by rats or thrown into a pit of venomous snakes?”

“Your imagination is quite amusing, Child, but none of the above applies.”

A hand on his shoulder startled him. Hector turned around and came face to face with the Dark Lord’s angelic form — the Harbinger of Light, Lucifer.

Mouth agape, Hector stared dumbly at Lucifer, whose lips were curling into a half-smile. “You look—”

“As I always did, before He took it from me. Does it lighten your heart when your Master looks more of an angel than the Devil?”

“I—I don’t...” Hector stuttered, probably still reeling from the revelation.

Lucifer lifted Hector’s chin with a finger, same as when he had sealed the deal with the human, only this time the risk of his claw ripping thin human skin was absent. In a blink, they were in Lucifer’s bedchamber.

Sabrina had an inkling which direction this was going.

Lucifer had shifted to stand behind Hector. His arm wrapping around the young man’s chest pulled him flushed against his front. “Our deal is that you exchanged your soul for liberty,” Lucifer whispered into his ear. “Do you know what it means?”

Hector shivered against the Dark Lord’s form. “It means I am yours,” he said, resigned. “All of me, for eternity.”

“Not what you imagined? Are you regretting now?”

“I imagined fire and brimstone and relentless, perpetual pain,” Hector said. “But I have no regret because it was my choice. First one I got to make in a long while.”

“Smart child.”

“Do I have to wear a collar?”

Hector’s hand instinctively shot to his throat at the last word and his shoulders grew taut. It would take some time, if ever, before his ghosts began to fade. Sabrina felt sorry for him.

Lucifer chuckled darkly. “Unless you want to. Collars, cuffs, chains, you name it, you get it; in the end, it is your words that bind you to me rather than any physical or magical restraints.”

“That is... a relief,” Hector mumbled with a small smile.

“You seem more disturbed by a mere collar than an eternity of servitude to the literal Devil.”

“I knew what I signed up for. I _asked_ for it so now I’m in no place to complain.”

“Your frankness is quite refreshing,” Lucifer said. “Remember, from now on you belong to me, and you will act according to my will, never against it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, _Dark Lord_ , which is how you will address me.”

Lucifer’s arm around his torso loosened and he turned Hector so that they were facing each other. He placed both hands on the young man’s shoulders and Hector slowly sank to his knees. “Yes, Dark Lord,” he said, head bent and eyes shut like in a prayer, and kissed the Dark Lord’s hoof.

...

They were back in Lucifer’s chamber. The Dark Lord sat down on the downy mattress, crossing his legs. His fingers tangled in silver hair, working out a few knots with rare, uncharacteristic patience and tenderness. Sabrina was taken by surprise to feel an odd tug in her guts. It was rather unpleasant to see her dad give his attention to someone else rather than his only child, and for hundreds of years to top. His ministrations caused Hector to stir and let out little soft noises but otherwise he did not wake.

“Jealous?” Lucifer asked, smirking at her.

Sabrina crossed her arms and couldn’t help a petulant pout. “I suppose the lesson is over. Can I leave now so that you can...” she trailed off, gesturing between her dad and Hector. Hell, what was this young man to her? Some sort of stepdad, like Lilith was some sort of a bitter, reluctant and awkward stepmom to her? The thought raised goosebumps on her skin.

Lucifer was sporting an amused look as if he could read her mind. Perhaps he could. Sabrina projected her frustration louder. “Not so hurried, Daughter. Perhaps you could share with me what merits you have gathered from today’s lesson.”

“Uhm... slavery is bad, I guess. Oh dear, what happened between you and Hector wasn’t slavery, was it?”

“You could ask him yourself,” Lucifer suggested. “Perhaps not right now but some time later. Take him out for a walk, for instance. Sit down for tea or show him how his former tormentors are faring in Hell.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you are encouraging us to interact. It’s almost like you want us to be friends, weird as it sounds.”

“I want you to establish a connection.”

“What ‘connection’, Dad?”

“A human connection will benefit both of you. Hector has not got any before you, and here, in Hell, you are not likely to get any beside him.”

“That’s actually... thoughtful, Dad. I’ll think about it. I do have several questions about his ability as a — what you called it — Devil Forgemaster.”

“I am certain he would love to talk about it. Now, before you go, I want you to remember how powerful and binding words are in striking a bargain, and how you can use them to get what you want.”

“Yes, I think I’ve seen how that works,” Sabrina said, glancing at the sleeping form on the bed.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Did you want Hector? I mean, did you decide on the spot that you wanted his soul when he summoned you?”

“I would not have answered if I had had no interest.”

“Why? It’s not like you needed a human to be your cupbearer or something.”

Lucifer arched an eyebrow at her question, then laughed. “Why?” he echoed. “Is ‘want’ not sufficient enough a reason? As the Devil, to not act on my desires would sully my name. I would urge you to do the same, my Queen.”

An idea hit her, and she couldn’t help a smile creeping up her lips. “I think I got it, sort of. You don’t mind if I go put it into practice, do you?”

There was that knowing smirk as if he could read her again. Surprisingly she wasn’t much bothered by it as she should be. “Why would I?” he said.

“See you, Dad.”

Fire responded to her summon eagerly — definitely a perk of her new position. It danced around her body as Sabrina focused on her destination.

The Ninth Ring of Hell, where a certain someone was trapped in stone and would likely be interested in striking a deal with the new Queen of Hell.

_End_

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this story reminds me of a crossover between Fox’s X-Men Cinematic Universe and Anne Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles I once wrote a few years ago, which is far weirder than a crossover between two of Netflix’s fantasy shows.
> 
> This is me attempting to give poor, poor Hector a chance for payback after what Lenore did to him in the third season. If he has to be a pet, why not be a pet to the Devil, who doesn’t collar him with a slave ring, trick him or hurt him, physically and mentally, who actually indulges him and takes care of him in his strange Devilish way?


End file.
